A Masterful Tribute to Perfumes Past: Tableau de Parfums Miriam

By Donna In my last post I swooned over the voluptuous Loretta from Andy Tauer' s Tableau de Parfums series, created in collaboration with Brian Pera's Evelyn Avenue films. These “Woman's Pictures” are tributes to the past and so are the perfumes; Miriam was the first in the series, and in some ways it is the more faithful of the two to the style of decades ago, yet it shows the unique modern hand of the perfumer. Miriam's template is the aldehydic floral, green and somewhat austere on one level, with zesty citrus and geranium making a brief appearance on top, sweet aldehydes and rose threading through the composition to soften the edges, and beneath it all an impressively profound musky base supported by velvet-smooth sandalwood and vanilla make it anything but staid. Loretta is the naughty sister on the surface, a flamboyant siren to Miriam's more sedate character, yet nothing about Miriam is ordinary. You just have to lean in a little closer, since she whispers rather than shouts, and give her more time to show just how sensuous she really is. I have read comments about Miriam that compare it to Chanel No. 5 and also that it is quite rosy. I definitely get the rosiness, which is lovely, but not the comparison to Chanel No. 5, which may be the global standard by which all aldehydic fragrances are judged, but I have never cared for it, and I adore Miriam, which does have a powdery aspect; however it is not the powder bomb that I find the Chanel to be. Most of the aldehydic perfumes I wear myself are also green, such as Carven's Ma Griffe, as I don't normally like the really sweet and heavy ones like Chanel No. 22, and it is a style of scent that I have grown to appreciate over time, having had to overcome my bias against them in order to learn that they can be very beautiful. For me, Miriam rests in the center of the aldehydic universe, neither sharp nor overly heavy, perfectly at ease in the company of Puredistance I and my beloved vintage Le Galion Sortilège. My first impression of Miriam was that it is quite mossy, but oakmoss is not listed as a note and that fades quickly to reveal the rose and other florals. It is soft, but with a definite backbone, and there is nothing fluffy or cuddly about it. It shifts and moves and gives off new facets of itself as it develops – a cloud of tender rose becomes a hint of pungent lavender, which in turn is replaced by pillow-soft aldehydes, only to change again to give me a breath of gorgeous jasmine. I have to keep pressing my nose to my skin repeatedly just to capture these fleeting moments of beauty, but since the longevity is so good, they just keep coming around again and again for my enjoyment. Miriam is available exclusively at Luckyscent along with Loretta. Wouldn't it be wonderful to see this pretty bottle on the counter at stores everywhere; I can just picture an older woman, a lover of classic fragrances, as she looks in vain for something to like among the cookie-cutter offerings of today, she spots the pretty flaçon of Miriam, and almost not daring to hope, she sprays it on and lifts her wrist to her nose. Her eyes widen, and then she closes them and smells it again and again, smiles and nods, and opens her purse to get her wallet out. She might even be me. Image credit: 1941 George Hurrell portrait of actress Veronica Lake via pleasurephotoroom.wordpress.com. Disclosure: This review was for a perfume from my own collection.

Glowing in the Dark: Tableau de Parfums Loretta

By Donna Perfume lovers tend to fall into one of two camps with tuberose. It's either love or hate most of the time, with few in the middle ground, as it is a polarizing note. I am in the love camp with a few notable exceptions such as Givenchy Amarige, which is so heavy and synthetic that it literally makes me ill. I revel in the powerhouse tuberoses like Fracas, Carnal Flower and Beyond Love, and even Serge Lutens' ferocious Tubéreuse Criminelle was love at first sniff for me. So I was eagerly awaiting the arrival of a fragrance by Andy Tauer named Loretta, which was inspired by a character in filmmaker Brian Pera's Woman's Picture series. (The first fragrance in the Tableau de Parfums series, the retro-inspired floral aldehyde Miriam, is truly stunning and deserves it own review.) I thought I had experienced all the facets the tuberose blossom had to offer, but I was wrong. From the moment my decant arrived I know it was something very special. (After all, it was created by the man who can even make the demure lily-of-the-valley appear larger than life.) To begin with, I could smell the fragrance before I even opened the package; how it got through the mail without attracting the wrong kind of attention I can only guess. I was afraid that it had been damaged, but when I opened the box it was perfectly intact. Yet the most intriguing aroma was emanating from the sealed vial, which was further encased in a plastic bag. It arrived with its sister scent Miriam, but Loretta was the one that was giving off the smell, like a radioactive isotope in a leaking containment vessel. With some trepidation I unwrapped the small but deadly container and sprayed it on my wrist. My first reaction was...instant love. It was huge, it was intimidating, it was radiating, and it was Just Too Much, but I adored it. Loretta is by no means a straight-up tuberose perfume in the Fracas manner, far from it. It is dark, oddly candied, and fruity/leathery in a very decadent way. It reminded me of something that I could not quite pin down, other than an interesting parallel to Serge Lutens' recent Une Voix Noire, if only for the slightly smoky sweetness of each, much amplified in Loretta, and then I read what someone else thought of it – that it was a lot like Dior's Poison. Yes, that was it, but I never liked Poison! How could I like Loretta, or even stand to be in the same room with it? Let's just say that Loretta embodies the things I do like about Poison without those notes I can't abide; the smothering heaviness and that weird oily/nutty feeling that always stuck in my throat. Loretta is akin to Poison in the way the tuberose is treated, to bring out its darkest personality, taking it to the extreme without holding back. However, it is also unabashedly gorgeous, and its character is a tribute to classic feminine fragrances of the past, not a deliberate attempt to shock, potent as it is; the intoxicating tuberose and just-short-of-rotting fruit accord may be the centerpiece, but it is decorated with orange blossom, rose, woods, sweet spices, vanilla, an especially penetrating aged patchouli, and leather. After many hours it dries down to a delicious amber with lingering hints of that tenacious patchouli. If we could travel back in time about sixty or seventy years, perfumes intended for women - adult women - would smell very different than they do now, and that Loretta would fit in just perfectly with the fragrances of the time. When I wear it I feel as though I should be all dressed up, sporting silk stockings, gloves and a fabulous hat with a veil. Loretta is available at Luckyscent as an eau de parfum; I am plotting to get a full bottle of this, but I don't think I am the only one who is wishing for a parfum strength. It is entirely unnecessary, since it is already more than strong enough, but I would love to revel in something so extreme that it would be almost painfully beautiful. For the time being I will console myself with the knowledge that the final Tableau de Parfums release, Ingrid, will arrive later in 2013. (I never smelled Dark Passage, the limited edition fragrance that was only available to backers of the films, but I understand that it was really wonderful.) If it's anywhere near as good as the others, it will be well worth the wait. Image credit: 1938 photo of actress Whitney Bourne taken by George Hurrell via pearlmodern.blogspot.com., original source unknown.. Disclosure: This review was for a perfume from my own collection.

Andy Tauer, Christmas Memories, and Letting Go

…and a draw By Tom I’m just going to say it.  I’m not big on  Christmas. I was when I was a kid of course.  Every year my family made it an event.  We decorated with a capital “D”.  Lights were strung.  Electric candles were placed in all of the street-side windows on our corner lot and the tree went up in the big bay window.  That tree was a devilishly complex fake one that consisted of individual branches that had to be placed into the wooden stand, and carefully packed lest it become a wire and plastic rubik’s cube. Then there were the ornaments.  These ranged from generic lights in strings to things that us kids made each year to items that had been around for decades.  The trimming of the tree and the house took at least a full day and outside help, and there were people who would drive out of their way to see it.  Was it tasteful?  Well it wasn’t like some that could be seen from space, but I think it might not have qualified as “quiet good taste” Like all kids at Christmas we’d wake up at about 5 ready to open the gifts.  We were expected to have breakfast as normal and then open our gifts in an orderly fashion, rather than attacking them like a group of sharks in chum-laden water.  It killed us to do so.  After we’d opened out gifts and played with them was the afternoon Christmas open house, with the food we’d all helped (in whatever way we could until we grew older) prepare, and the adult libations we kids were desperate to try to sneak a sip of. Later in life my BFF moved with her family and my godchild to Los Angeles.  Over the years we spent our Christmases together, which meant that I usually got a call at 7 or so asking that I come over right away since said child didn’t want to open anything until I was there, and could I pick up some cream or something for the dinner we’d prepare.  We’d have breakfast together as my Godchild was forced to sit there, vibrating like a tuning fork just like I did, awaiting the gifts.  There was also earlier the setting up of their tree,; theirs natural but still with ornaments that came out every year, some made by hand, some from decades ago.  The dinner we all prepared was composed of friends dropping in and trying to keep the teens from snagging any of the adult libations we were enjoying. So why don’t I like Christmas? It ends.  My teen Christmas ended when my father died in December and that tree stayed up in the box.  My adult Christmas died when my godchild’s father decided just after Christmas to end his marriage, and my BFF moved back to New York where the godchild was in college. I’m not asking for pity.  We make the holidays what we make them.  As a matter of fact I’m going this year to a latke party that some friends of mine are having, but didn’t think I’d attend since they thought I’d be celebrating Christmas.  I’ll be very happy celebrating potato pancakes, and tasting a different family's holiday tradition.  Mazel Tov, Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays: they are what you make of them, and I sincerely hope yours are fulfilling.  Notes on the draw:  The prize is a full bottle at the choice of the winner. The winner can select from any fragrance that Andy sells on tauerperfumes.com or a bottle of Miriam, the Tableau de Parfums scent, or the Cologne du Maghreb.  (lucky you) the draw will be open the 24 hours of December 11th and is open to all countries (Andy will be shipping directly from Zurich)  Tune in tomorrow to see who won, and check out the other participants by visiting his website.

The Colours Out of Space: Pentachords by Tauer Perfumes

by Marla (or is it??) H. P. Lovecraft wrote his personal favorite sci-fi short story, “The Colour Out of Space” in 1927. It’s about an alien (perhaps) who arrives in a meteor (maybe) and proceeds to destroy the countryside around its landing site by dint of a peculiar “colour”, an analogy for some sort of energy that does not exist on Earth. Now this story is a horror story, but if we can imagine Colours Out of Space that don’t feed on our life energy and destroy us, but merely change us in an olfactory manner, leaving us neither better nor worse, only different, then Tauer’s Pentachords could come directly from that meteorite. The original and frighteningly talented Mr. Tauer wanted to make wholly synthetic odors of 5 aromamolecules each. No naturals could be used, because each natural component is composed of many different aromachemicals. He was looking for some sort of alien purity, obviously. Maybe, down in his cold, stone laboratory deep in the Alps, he still is…. From benign to terrifying, I’ll rank my mini-reviews: The Fluffy Cloud Alien: White freaked me out briefly at first with its synthetic blast of some substance I can’t quite name. Within 90 seconds, it had settled on my skin to become the Best Marshmallow Ever. But it’s a very big, scary marshmallow. Remember Mr. Stay-Puft from “Ghostbusters”? Big marshmallow. I really love White, though, and I’m considering a bottle of it. Some days it’s just a lovely Ms. Stay-Puft with a mere hint of malice in those enormously sweet, comfy eyes…. The Burning Crater in the Orchard: Auburn sometimes pleases and sometimes alarms me. It’s fiery, but not an earthly fire. It’s something made by Some Thing that burnt up in our atmosphere. The remnants land on your skin, and your skin starts to change. It’s hot, that’s for sure…. The Ancient One: Verdant just freaks me out. It’s the most Lovecraftian of the trio, and I’ve worn it a few times, but I’m afraid if I keep wearing it, I will also begin to glow in that Colour Out of Space. Or start chanting for Cthulhu to return. Sure, it’s green, I guess that’s the best analogy. Just be warned before you try it on, it doesn’t leave your brain. Even if you hate it (and I don’t), you won’t forget it, and you’ll start wondering exactly what’s in that vial, and if it’s really gone…. So I’m hoping that Mr. Tauer tries a few more colors for the Pentachords collection, but not until next Halloween, please. These 3 are making my skin glow just fine.

The Lark Ascending: Carillon pour un Ange by Tauer Perfumes

By Donna One of my favorite modern dance creations is the wonderfully ethereal The Lark Ascending by Vaughan Williams as interpreted by the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. It is a dance of joy and longing with a wistful heart, one of the most perfect fusions of music and choreography I have ever witnessed. The evanescent grace of the music is only enhanced by the sensuality of the dancers’ emotionally charged movements. I have been fortunate enough to see it performed live several times and it always has the same effect on me; I think how wondrous it is that humans, as flawed as we are, have the ability to create such piercing beauty. I can’t help but think the same thing when smelling a truly superior perfume – how is it that one person’s creative mind can make art with just a handful of essential oils and some molecules, and not only that but come up with something new in a perfume sub-genre as tightly delineated as a lily-of-the-valley fragrance? Andy Tauer has done it with his superb Carillon pour un Ange, released in 2010, a perfume that virtually rewrites the book on this popular style and gives it new life. Muguet perfumes are even more similar to each other than rose or iris soliflores, because the essence of the flower itself cannot be captured; it is a reconstruction made from other materials, and the specific aroma chemicals that translate as “muguet” to our noses are used in virtually all of these. Yes, there is much variation in quality among them, from the high of vintage Diorissimo to the most common bar of hotel soap, but it is always instantly recognizable. What makes Carillon pour un Ange special is the personal stamp that Andy Tauer always puts on his compositions, a feeling that he has made this beautiful thing just for you. My own love for his masterwork L’ Air du Desert Marocain remains as strong as ever, and I also admire the intensely sultry Le Maroc pour Elle and the smoldering campfire leather of Lonestar Memories. Now I have discovered that he can evoke my admiration with a fragrance that is the polar opposite in just about every way of the famously strong style for which he first became known. No resins, spices, or incense in this one, no signature “Tauerade” base to mark it with the perfumer’s characteristic signature. It is lilting and green and earthy and soft all at the same time, and it’s not like any other muguet perfume I have ever experienced. In order to get a baseline standard for this style my comparison for this review was to another muguet fragrance I own and love, Le Galion’s Le Muguet parfum de toilette, a vintage scent of particularly fine clarity and quality, the very definition of a soliflore. Others I love are (of course) Diorissimo, Van Cleef & Arpels Muguet Blanc and the vintage formula of Caron’s peerless Muguet de Bonheur, my own personal favorite over the years. They all have their subtle differences but all share the high, clear tone of the tiny white bells that produce that astonishing aroma. Where Carillon pour un Ange departs from all of these is a certain earthiness that smells like the forest floor in spring and a fleshy quality like that of the moist, crushed petals of Madonna lilies, another flower known for its purity of scent. While it sings the soaring soprano notes like the other ones, it also maintains a grounded feeling like the deep vibration of a cello, and it really does smell like the growing flowers, their unmatched purity always accompanied by the undercurrent of fallen leaves, moss and living woodland soil, which happens to be one of my very favorite things. These blossoms have not been picked and put in a dainty vase indoors, oh no; they are still exhaling their crystalline breath close to the ground, surrounded by their earthen cradle. Something else sets it apart from most other lily-of-the-valley fragrances; longevity. I can still smell it on my skin when I wake up the next day, a true rarity for such a tender floral. It does share one aspect in common with some other Tauer perfumes; the genius of a touch of leather in the base, giving it a feeling of intimacy to play against the florals. This makes Carillon pour un Ange the closest thing to a “skin scent” that any muguet perfume has ever been as far as I know – it’s usually the kind of fragrance that floats above the wearer, with the sillage as the main point; sometimes smelling this kind of perfume close to the skin can be harsh or metallic because of the synthetic ingredients used to create the holographic impression of the flower. Not so with Carillon; it is very much of this world and of nature and it’s never sharp or distant. It may not change the minds of those for whom muguet never works at all, but it is surely worth a try if the steely chemical edge they can have is what’s been keeping you away. For those who do love this note in fragrance, it’s an absolute necessity to try it. It expands the universe of lily-of-the-valley in perfume in a way I never expected, and now I can’t imagine it not existing. Image credit: ‘Spring Green Branch’ by multimedia artist Karen Anne Glick, used by permission via karenanneglick.com. Disclosure: My testing of this perfume was from a private sample.

Enamelled Rose

By Marla “Une Rose Vermeille” by Tauer Perfumes (2010) got stuck in my “Weird Basket” for a month or two. That’s the basket where samples go that I just can’t figure out. Do I love this? Do I hate this? What’s in this stuff, anyway? “Une Rose Vermeille”’ has top notes of citrus and lavender, heart notes of rose, aldehydes, violets, and raspberries, and an amber base. There are lots of natural, high quality ingredients in this, and lots of aldehydes, too. This one is over-the-top feminine, and so retro without actually following retro formulae. It references many things: Malle’s Lipstick Rose, Guerlain’s Nahema, women’s cosmetics of the 50s, a whole family tree of French aldehydic perfumes. It’s an “homage” to the rose, and so the many references to classic rose perfumes, the color red, and fashionable women, are all found here. With so many references, it strikes me as nearly a concept piece rather than a perfume. There’s an initial burst of citrus and lavender, then a very intense heart of jammy, fruity rose and aldehydes, then a strong amber base that surprisingly does not go gourmand. Sillage is as intense as always with Tauer Perfumes; lasting power is excellent. So do I like it? I still don’t know. At first I thought I really hated it. Then I wanted to sniff it again. Nope, too strong. So I dabbed a micro-drop on a scarf, and every time during the day that I walked by that scarf, I thought, “Yum! What is that?” After a couple months of this random experimentation, I really enjoy “Une Rose Vermeille” --at a respectable distance. It’s too intense for my skin, and it’s just too different from my usual persona to really wear it out and about, but I’m keeping a small decant, because I really do want to smell it again….

Lucky 7: Andy Tauer Zeta

By Tom I'm just about the last person I think to write about this new scent from Swiss perfumer Andy Tauer. We here at PST are fans of his and for me his latest did not disappoint. It opens with sparking citrus: lemon, orange and bergamot that's so wonderful you want it served like champagne. Ice cold in a flute. Neroli and linden form the heart: neroli young and springlike and linden with its surprisingly human aspect to it. Sandalwood, orris and vanilla combine with the salty linden to create just a touch of his signature "Tauerade" in the drydown. It's a cliche I guess to write of a scent as "Summer in a bottle". It isn't to exemplify the ideal, as Zeta does. $150 for 50ML at Tauerperfumes.com My sample was from LuckyScent.

Andy Tauer Annual Advent Calendar: Le Cologne du Maghreb Giveaway.

DETAILS ON THE PRIZE: LE COLOGNE DU MAGHREB, 50 ml, 1.7 FL OZ glass flacon with spray. From Andy himself, "This year's highlight for the give-aways: I made an all natural, all botanical Eau de cologne, baptized LE COLOGNE DU MAGHREB, especially for this occasion. I use only natural essential oils, absolutes, and resins in it. It is a classical cologne, with a woody baseline chord, a firework of natural citrus notes, exploding into expensive sparkles, on a background with ambreine and cedarwood from the Moroccan High Atlas. Like all colognes it is not made to last but it is a fragrant joy, living in the moment, leaving you with the finest veil of woods on your skin. Ingredients: Citrus essential oils and absolutes (such as lemon, bergamot, clementine, mandarine, grapefruit, orange blossom absolute, neroli oil), rose absolute and oil, cedarwood, ambrein, cistrose and much more. Initially, I started working on a cologne because I got my hand on a wonderful neroli oil that was so lovely that I could not but create a fragrance around it. And what kind of perfume if not a cologne is the first thing coming to mind when thinking NEROLI…. Thus, the cologne is a little bit an homage to neroli and in a sense, it is a way of looking back to my roots, working all natural. I truly love naturals." HOW TO ENTER: leave a comment telling us whether you wear colognes, whether it is a seasonal thing or year-round staple for you and what is your favorite representative of a cologne genre. I have yet to smell Cologne Maghreb, so I reserve a right to change my mind, but for now I would say my favorite cologne is Malle's Cologne Bigarade. The draw will close on Friday, the randomly chosen winner will be announced on Monday.

Love isn't always easy: Tauer Perfumes Le Maroc pour Elle

By Donna I first encountered the perfumes of Andy Tauer back when only two of them existed. I ordered samples of both L'Air du Desert Marocain and Le Maroc pour Elle to see what all the excitement was about. The former went immediately into my all-time personal hall of fame; it took me a lot longer to figure out Le Maroc. My first sample was tested and then set aside while I figured out if I liked it or not; then taken out of storage every so often for a reminder. I ended up letting someone else use most of it, but I could not stop thinking about it, so recently I bought another sample, determined this time to break the code and wear it until I knew its secrets, if possible. I thought it was wonderfully crafted and stunning in its execution, and it was obvious that many high quality natural materials went into its creation. I think my puzzlement was partially due to thinking of it as a rose perfume the first time around, which is not really what it is, so it’s best to think of it simply as a very good Oriental scent. Yes, it has a heart featuring the finest Moroccan rose, but right out of the vial it was oddly medicinal and strangely oily to me, due to top notes that include the pungent lavender that Andy Tauer likes so much. Furthermore, the jasmine in this fragrance is so strong and indolic that it almost smells like an old-fashioned classic with civet in the base, such as Lanvin's iconic My Sin. The contrast between this deeply animalic quality and the almost astringent lavender and mandarin in the opening was a bit disconcerting at first. I finally realized that what this perfume needed was just one thing: time to grow into itself on skin. So why is Le Maroc pour Elle not a rose perfume? It is a scent with a structure that has abstracted the rose by bonding it with the other notes to form a unique impression. It has this in common with one of my other favorites, Lancôme's Magie Noire, which has a hazy center of Bulgarian rose surrounded by smoky woods and rich florals; you can't quite pick out the rose by itself, it just enriches everything else. (To get the best idea of how this works, you have to smell the vintage version.) Le Maroc does a similar trick with her rose, which is by nature a bit sharper and greener than the one in Magie Noire. Another take on this concept is Paloma Picasso's Mon Parfum, an abstract rose chypre that never lets you forget about its dark rose essence while never being mistaken for a rose soliflore by any stretch of the imagination. Once I figured that out (I can be a slow learner sometimes) I knew that I just needed to be patient as the layers became revealed. Little by little she unveiled herself, but never did the pure, classic floral “rose” note appear. No indeed, the lavender finally subsided and it worked its way through the headiness of the heart, so heavy with sweet Orientalized roses and “dirty” with jasmine, during which it reminded me of another blast from the past, the late, lamented Maroc by Ultima II (Revlon). I loved that fragrance and I have no idea why it went away; it was released during the same era as the inferior Ciara, which became inexplicably popular. Maroc had a huge, exhilarating and high-pitched rose note that could knock you right back on your heels, but it was strangely beautiful all the same since it was surrounded by sharp herbal notes, patchouli and dry oakmoss. Le Maroc pour Elle shares that character in a more earthy and understated way at this stage of development, although it has its own kind of smoldering power. Finally, at the last stage of the drydown it took on a smooth, candied quality, very sweet and persistent. If you don't love this one by now you are in trouble anyway, because it lasts pretty much forever until you wash it off. It had just a touch of the old Dana Tabu by now, very sweet and riding on the edge of indecency, but in a good way that admirers of this particular style of Oriental perfume will understand perfectly. The oily aspect that was so unexpected in the opening felt just right here; it was simply waiting for the chance to show why it's in there. It is nowhere as strong as Tabu at this stage of course; nothing is, but good luck removing it without a scrub down. However, by this time you won't want to, because it has fused with your skin and smells absolutely wonderful. If you wear it to bed the scent of candied roses will still be there in the morning, embedded in the woody-balsamic base that makes it all so delicious, not to mention very sexy. When it reached this final destination with me, I finally understood why so many people love it, because now so did I. Tauer Perfumes are available from his website, at selected shops in Europe, online from Luckyscent in the U.S. and The Perfume Shoppe in Canada. Image credit: Moroccan pattern desktop wallpaper, a free download from flash-screen.com

Wing and a Prayer: Carillon pour un Ange by Tauer Perfumes

It's no secret that we at PST are fans of Andy Tauer. In person he's charming; he's also an extremely talented artist with an array of beautiful scents. Carillon pour un Ange is his ode to Lily of the Valley, one of my personal favorite smells and one that can go so very wrong in perfume. When it's right (Diorissimo, CdeG Leaves) it can be a transportive dream. To paraphrase a Cadillac ad from a few years ago: time to start dreaming... Carillon does plays with the angelic lily of the valley and it's clean hyacinth and orange innocence by introducing a shockingly sensual oily leather aspect to it that reminded me immediately of his (sadly) never produced Hyacinth and a Mechanic. I'm not the first person who's written that, as a matter of fact I believe he admitted as such to March at Perfume Posse. Unlike that hyacinth scent, this doesn't radiate. There's a yin and yang of the soft and sparkling flowers set against the dark and brooding leather and ambergris- it's not hard to believe that this was originally called "Gabriel" when in development. It's great to see a perfumer "spread his wings" in this way. Andy Tauer seems with each new fragrance to manage to both pare down yet broaden his reach. This might possibly be his best yet. Luckyscent is giving away bottles of this delight to two of our readers. To be included in the draw, please leave a comment. At this time we are only able to offer this giveaway to readers with US addresses. The draw will be open until Midnight on Sunday July 25th, Pacific Time. The draw is closed. Andy has also partnered with Luckyscent to do an ebook for charity called "A Moment With Lily of the Valley" in which all of us are invited to participate. Carillon pour un Ange is $75 for 15ML at Luckyscent

Orange You Glad? Andy Tauer Orange Star...and a giveaway...

By Tom Andy Tauer is one of my favorite perfumers; there are several of his that I have in heavy rotation, and one unproduced one that's the "one that got away". His new one features one of my favorite notes, orange. Orange can be tricky, it can be giggle inducing, it can be silky and creamy and it can even be smoky and mysterious. In Tauer's hands the orange is recognizable if not literal: the citrus is mixed with the tart lemongrass and smooth orange flower and a touch of ambergris. the ambergris continues into the dry-down where a touch of tonka and vanilla round out the composition; it's different and new, but identifiably Andy Tauer. The sample I got was dabbed on and I can't wait to see what it's like sprayed. I think it will bloom wonderfully when sprayed... Orange Star is also introducing Tauer's new packaging: blue glass pentastar shaped bottles with the logo in a script that reminds me of the font used by the old Indian Motocycle (not a typo) Company; it's not retro at all and it looks like nothing out there. I want to see it in person, but in print it's gorgeous. The scent will make its debut at ScentBar, the brick-and-mortar store for the online retailer LuckyScent on Beverly Blvd in Los Angeles this Saturday April 17th from 1-4. Also, LuckyScent has been kind enough to make a very generous offer: one of our readers will receive a bottle of the new scent. If you would like to included in the draw, please say so in the comments. My small sample was provided by LuckyScent.

Proposed Tauer Gabriel Project

By Kelley OK, so I received this sample of an upcoming Andy Tauer scent called Gabriel (I am assuming that it is named after the Archangel Gabriel but I think he should call this one Raphael, but more on that later). My proposal is that four or five other people volunteer to write short reviews of this scent, along with me to be posted here on Perfume Smellin' Things. I will test it and write my review and then mail the sample to the next person on my list. This person will test it for a couple of days and then write their review and email the review to me. They will then snail-mail the sample to the next person on the list and so on until the last person gets it. This project was sort of inspired by one of Andy's projects that has traveled around the world (I was lucky enough to participate in that project). So, who would like to review this new scent with me? The reviews can be short, just a paragraph or two. The reviews will be combined into one glorious group review. You will have to pay the postage to the next reviewer but the cost should be minimal. The purpose of this project is to FORCE Andy to get off his butt and release this scent! I have asked Andy for months and it still isn't on the schedule. If I can just get some public demand going.... If you would like to volunteer, please leave a response along with your email address. Winners will be chosen out of a hat by me (Kelley). Image credit, Who is She Who Comes Shining Like the Rising Dawn... Copyright 2005 Kelley Vandiver

Midnight at the Oasis: Tauer Perfumes L’Air du Desert Marocain

By Donna As many dedicated fragrance fans know, independent Swiss perfumer Andy Tauer has taken the world of niche perfumery by storm with his innovative fragrances, combining originality with first-class natural ingredients to come up with one hit after another. Each carries his unmistakable signature, a kind of “Tauerade” that lets you know with one sniff that it’s one of Andy’s - and that it’s really, really good. Andy’s scents have an intimate immediacy grounded in his dedication to using only the finest materials, bringing them to brilliant life for those fortunate enough to experience the results of his creative explorations. I reviewed Incense Extrême previously, and I mentioned two of his other fragrances in passing in that piece. This time I am putting the spotlight on my favorite of his creations that I have tried so far, which has become one of my all-time favorite perfumes, period: his very first one, L’ Air du Desert Marocain. This would be an impressive achievement from any perfume house; for it to be the debut fragrance for a one-man operation is truly amazing. Either men or women can wear it, though I think it was meant to be more of a masculine scent. (Le Maroc pour Elle is the only designated feminine perfume Andy has done to date, and it is beautiful in a different way.) Fortunately for me I ignored this division and tried it on myself, and rarely has a fragrance taken my breath away like this does. I can only describe this in an emotional way, since I was so taken with it the first time I ever tried it. Conceived as an homage to the scents of the Moroccan desert, to me it tells a story in a manner few other scents can match. It begins with an incense warmth like sunrise both dry and sweet, awakening the senses as the landscape comes alive for the dawning day. As it develops it gets even drier, echoing the shimmering heat of the midday sun as it mercilessly parches everything under its power. This phase last a very long time; the longevity of this fragrance is truly impressive. Deeper and deeper it becomes, until the spice profile is revealed, and the coriander and cumin combine with vanilla and cedar notes to create the feeling of the way the desert comes back to life in the early evening, with aromas of cooking and wood fires. I can almost see the billowing tents with their faded stripes, fragrant from years of spicy feasts consumed within their confines, and hear the laughter and camaraderie from afar in the crystal-clear air of nightfall as the bonfires flicker down to glowing embers. It would be just fine if it stopped there, but it doesn’t. Delving deeper into its base, at the very end, many hours after its initial application, the sweet, soothing incense becomes balsamic and slippery, and the patchouli and vetiver start to cool things down. Deserts get cold pretty quickly at night since dry air does not hold heat very well. The very end of this perfume is like being near an oasis late at night, with a whisper of moisture rising off the verdant life-giving spring as the denizens of daytime sleep under the stars and the night creatures begin to stir. You can catch the fleeting sweetness on the air from the jasmine and Bourbon geranium, as well as the beautifully refined incense and ambergris. The final fade is of vetiver root, deep in the cooling earth as it slumbers in wait for the next fiery day. It can take up to twelve hours to get to this phase, so plan on putting this on early in the day to get there. Maybe others’ skin chemistry will produce a different result, but on me it’s pure magic – and to think, I used to wear nothing but florals! Andy Tauer calls this “the scent of desire” and I can certainly see why, but it’s not an overtly sexy scent in the conventional sense; there is no dirty leather or musk and there is nothing overwrought or blatant about it. I would put it on a level of greatness right up with the animalic monster Yatagan by Caron, but it is not anything like that one at all. Instead it is more romantic, a true memory fragrance, piercing the heart with longing for things both remembered and never possessed. For me it reaches into the past more years than I care to count and somehow brings back the vivid sensations of a great love affair in my life, which was both long ago and far away; warm copper skin smelling of cedarwood and spices, a galaxy of stars that seemed close enough to touch in the darkest sky I had ever seen, and sublime nights spent under rough blankets permeated by wood smoke. I will never see him again, but when I put on L’Air du Desert Marocain I can be back there in my dreams. No one really knows how it is that an aroma can affect us so profoundly, but I for one appreciate this gift that a great fragrance made by a masterful perfumer can give us, and I can say without hesitation that this one is a masterpiece to me. In the U.S., Andy Tauer’s perfumes are available online at Luckyscent and its Los Angeles retail store The Scent Bar; and now they can be found in Canada too from The Perfume Shoppe in Vancouver, BC both at the store and online. L’Air du Desert Marocain comes in Eau de Parfum, $100 USD for 50 ml and worth every penny. Image credit: Sahara desert sunset scene from Wikimedia Commons.

Andy Tauer Une Rose Chypre: Perfume Review and a Prize Draw

For the rose, for this rose, for the only one, for this graceful, open, adult rose, for her depths of velvet, for the cry of her red bosom. (Pablo Neruda, Ode to the Rose) Like Neruda, I used to believe that I renounced roses, that I "preferred the rough bouquets of the thicket, wild lilies"...Roses are too ubiquitous, too obviously feminine. I am jaded, I crave the exotic, the unusual, the innovative. But I also require classicism, elegance and grace. How do you create a perfume that is classically structured and chic but also a little strange, a little outlandish? And in particular, how do you create a perfume like that when it is centered on such a traditional, overused note? I don't know how, ask Daniel Maurel, the author of the spectacular Amouage Lyric and ask Andy Tauer. The secret of Une Rose Chyprée's attraction for me is three-fold: 1. It is a Dark Rose, not necessarily come-hither vampy, but certainly suggestively brooding, and Dark Roses are the only kind I can love at all; no easy, breathy, pastel tea-roses for me, please! 2. It is not overly true-to-life. I don't smell it and think, this is a rose. I smell it and think, this is a Perfume about a rose, a stylized, imaginative interpretation. 3. It is built on a contrast. The contrast is between the untamed wildness, greenness and woodiness of windswept roses from an untended garden, on the on hand, and, on the other hand, the exquisite, mannered, Ladurée-evoking gourmandness. The thorny verdancy of geranium, the rootiness of vetiver, the dirtiness of patchouli, the rich sharpness of oak moss are tamed and softened by the mouthwatering vanilla and citruses coated in cinnamon sugar...the rose is caught in-between the two streams, benefiting from both, wild and delicate, green and honeyed, spicy and silky-smooth all at once. A poet can't close his eyes to rose's "cup of fire", or seal off his heart from its fragrance, and neither can a perfume lover pass by the indolent, fiery elegance of Une Rose Chyprée, my new favorite rose and my new favorite Tauer scent. It is launching worldwide on July 1. Together with Luckyscent, we are holding today a prize draw for two bottles of Une Rose Chyprée. For a chance to win one, please leave us a comment. And while you are doing so, tell us what is YOUR favorite rose fragrance and your favorite Tauer perfume, and why. The two winners will be chosen randomly and announced early next week. The prize draw is now closed.

Perfume Posse Visits (part of) Perfume Smellin' Things

By Tom March and Patty of Perfume Posse came to Los Angeles to visit and host an event at ScentBar this weekend and of course I could no more pass up the chance to meet them than I could give up, well, perfume! They actually came in slightly earlier than the day of the event, and since I love to show people the city who haven't been here before (as March hadn't) I volunteered to drive them around on Friday for shopping and hanging out. I will admit that there was a small amount of trepidation as there always is meeting someone that you have this Internets relationship with, electronically intimate enough that you feel like you have shared lives, but have never spent any time with in person. Would me mesh? Would they find me hopelessly boring? Would there be long periods of uncomfortable silences followed by furtive calls to friends to ask them to call back and pretend they're locked out of their place and being attacked by man-eating clams and need you to come get them? In short, would it be like Match.com? Of course, that didn't happen. After an initial comic mishap involving hotels on one street having changed names we piled into my microscopic Honda and it was old home week. We drove around the hills of Beverly looking at (and joyously dissing) real estate I can't afford, cruised Malibu, shopped Montana Avenue and ate Pinkberry before meeting the always delightful Robin (VioletNoir) for dinner and drinks in Century City. March and Patty are just as delightful in the flesh as the are on the internets; if only Colombina could have been there. Now that would have been perfection! The next day was ScentBar. The charming owners Adam Eastwood and Franco Wright were kind enough to open early to host a bunch of us; there were all the new things to sniff all the usual suspects including Robin and Iris. There were muffins and sugar cookies and Prosecco Bellinis. If I am very good Heaven will look like this, except it will just be me, a spa tub the size of a Fleetwood Brougham and perhaps, Hugh Jackman. If he doesn't take more than one muffin. I tried Mure et Musc Extrait, which is great in that "berries gone bad" way, and since you're getting a refill in the package justifies the price. The Party in Manhattan was wonderful; I don't find it the skank-fest that March and Patty do. They think I'm nuts. I think I'm part house-cat. Those were the yums; I have to say that the new Serge, Nuit de Cellophane, is a meh for me. Uncle Serge has done the definitive Fruity-Floral. Fruity-Floral has now been done in that way that "Gone With the Wind" has been done. The Genre has been officially been closed. No more should be produced and the pallid, anodyne scents that came before should retreat to some dark corner and as Colombina put it "smoke nervously". Would I wear it? Right after I appear at work in a red taffeta ball gown. Should you? Up to you. Parfums DelRae Emotionnelle is the perfect simulacrum of fresh cantaloupe that I have smelled outside of my breakfast table. I however ran from it and was glad that March, who is old and censorious friends with Patty asked her to please wash it off forthwith. The real surprise of the morning was a sample of Andy Tauer's new Une Rose Chyprée, a perfectly balanced rose/chypre where the rose is lifted by clementine and bay and grounded by labdanum, oakmoss and vanilla. I know there were a few rumbles of disappointment over Andy's last couple of releases, but this is going to be a runaway hit for him: the rose opening is immediately, captivatingly gorgeous and the drydown is sniff-your-arm-and-moan good. I'd have a giveaway for my sample but I am simply not that generous.. Andy, I think this should be your first perfume strength one. If you're reading. Tomorrow (Sunday) is March and Patty's last day in the City of the Fallen Angels and we are going to get together once more. I hope to drive them across Mulholland to have lunch at the Village Cafe on Beachwood Canyon under the Hollywood sign. It's been marvelous meeting them; could someone work on that Transporter thingy in "Star Trek" so that we could all get together easily in various places on a whim? Wouldn't that be lovely?

Hyacinths and a Mechanic by Andy Tauer

By Kelley I consider myself blessed. I was chosen to be part of the "Bottle on a Journey" experiment by Andy Tauer. I have read the other reviews and believe me, my review is very different from the other reviews. Is it because I am a man with male skin chemistry? I can't tell you. The following was on the note in the box and was written by Andy. "What is it all about? I have made a fragrance that I like. I am not ready to commercialize it yet. Thus, I have sent one bottle of the perfume off to perfume lovers for a little journey. You can view where the bottle was in the past and the comments of perfume lovers on a map. Please visit www.tauerperfumes.com for previous comments. The Journey. The bottle is sent from one perfume lover to the other. Who gets it may sniff it, comment on it and then pass it on. I publish the comments and the position of the bottle on a map. I do not control where it is going and just hope it will travel a long distance (at the moment it is on San Miguel de Allende, Mexico), crossing barriers and frontiers. The Fragrance. Its running title is Hyacinths and a Mechanic. It is a floral scent, a bouquet of powdery lilacs, green hyacinths and gentle lily of the valley. A bouquet of May flowers in the hand of a mechanic with an undertone of oily skin." Upon first spray, I am overwhelmed by an impressionistic spring floral accord. The dewy flowers smell very green as if the flowers are surrounded by freshly gathered violet leaves sprinkled with spicy cinnamon. I definitely smell hyacinths in this bouquet. On my skin there is no clear winner with the three listed floral ingredients but a general feeling of spring flowers. Now, here is the kick, I don't smell any oily undercurrent or even a hint of oily "anything". Did my skin just gobble it up? Is it because I have an oily skin smell and so I am used to it? I don't know but it is a mystery that I have been trying to solve for the two weeks that I have been wearing this scent. After the initial floral burst, the scent calms down to a resinous floral accord. Being a huge Tauer fan I feel pretty confident in my following comment. I picture flowers sprinkled on a spilled puddle of the base notes from "Lonestar Memories". The longer I wear the scent, the firmer my opinion gets about this. I smell myrrh and deep resins. Don't get me wrong, there is not a drop of birch tar in this just the beautiful incense base notes that Andy is famous for. It starts of very floral and green and gradually warms up with the now famous Tauerade. Would I wear this, probably not. It is very florally feminine or femininely floral at first. After a couple of hours, it turns into a very unisex floral incense that in its later stages becomes very deep and dark and resinous. This has to be the most traditionally feminine release from the house of Tauer (even more so than Orris). I have to admit that I love it and would enjoy smelling it on a woman. I have NEVER smelled anything like it. Sillage is great at first and eventually calms down. It lasts about 6 hours on my skin which is a little unusual for a Tauer release which can last up to 24 hours, and I love that about Andy's work. Well, I reread the other reviews on Andy's website and I guess my review isn't that different after all. It was sure a fun project. Unfortunately, I am unable to give you any specific information about availability because there is just the one bottle of this scent and Andy hasn't made any plans to release it to the public. Here is hoping you will be lucky enough to host the bottle some day! It is now on its way back to the United States.... Hey! It's good to be back!

Andy Tauer at ScentBar

By Tom It's rather a crazy week here in Lake Pansy (apologies to Garrison) so this isn't going to be a terribly long post. Lucky you! This past weekend Andy Tauer made an appearance for the formal introduction of Incense Rose. I was able to speak to the Robin, IrisLA and Supermarky, and to meet Maria B, who motored all the way down from Monterey for the occasion (clever girl that she is, she took the super-scenic coast road, which everyone should do once). Andy gave a talk about the development of his frankincense/rose scents and showed us various components; it's always interesting to be able to see how some of these disparate (and sometimes shockingly pungent) ingredients can some up with something as smooth and seductive as Incense Rose, whose play on citrus-tinged roses, coriander and incense is a beauty, even if I do find it a little more rose than I like to wear. If you love garden-fresh rose and are in the mood for a wonderful spring scent you will definitely want to check this out. He also gave out samples of his new Rose scent, which will apparently debut in the fall. It's the other side of the calendar from Incense Rose: IR is playful spring, buzzing with the promise of life. Rose is the last blooms of autumn, the Indian summer days with that "migrate-or-die" evening chill toit. Andy also gave us a sniff (via test strips- he only had one little sample) of his new Vetiver, which I don't remember him saying when (or if, for that matter) it would be out. Being the shy, retiring thing that I am, I sidled up to the bar and Baldly, er, politely gave myself the tiniest spritz. Yum! It's vetiver, but it's doing that same "rethink what you know about vetiver" Andy has done with lavender with Reverie au Jardin and with hyacinth with Hyacinth and Mechanic (No Andy, I am not letting that one go. So there.). I REALLY hope that this one sees the light of day, the shelves at LuckyScent and the inside of my cupboard. Had I had a third glass of prosecco I would have just grabbed the sample out of Franco's hand and ran drunkenly off with it. Luckily, for decorum's sake, I did not.